Two Roads to Córdoba
by laurelisland
Summary: Sheppard and McKay want to go to the beach. Their destination is Córdoba. Their plan is to do noting. Carson disagrees and goes after them to personally drag them back to the infirmary.


_Rating_: K +

_Genre_: Humor

_Spoilers_: none

_Characters_: The team, Carson, Lorne, Elizabeth.

_Pairings_: none

_Disclaimer_: Stargate: Atlantis and its characters aren't mine. The story is. I'm not making any money off this (although I did spend some).

_Author's notes_: Um... this isn't the best thing I've ever written, but I hope you'll enjoy it all the same. Biggest thanks to my dear beta, fififolle, for putting up with my nitpicking. This fic would be almost unreadable without her help.

_Summary_: Sheppard's disappeared from the infirmary. Typical. This time, Carson wants to go after him himself.

* * *

><p>TWO ROADS TO CÓRDOBA<p>

by Iona

It was early morning and Sheppard was asleep. It was too early even for a morning person like him. That apparently was enough of a provocation to the fates; he was shaken like a pillow someone wanted to fluff. He was _not_ a pillow. He faked a moan and opened his eyes only to come face to face with Rodney.

»Sheppard! Wake up! Aren't you military types used to waking up hours before dawn?« McKay whispered. He sounded urgent.

»That's the infantry.« Sheppard rolled away from his teammate. »It's dangerous to take off in the dark.« Not that danger ever stopped John Sheppard.

»You're not taking off. Well, you are, but...«

»I am?« That was all that was needed to make him wide awake. He turned back to face the scientist.

»Yes. I need you. I have things to do, can't be bothered with flying as well.«

»Carson won't like that.« John waved a hand at the ceiling as if giving a clue to McKay that he was actually in the infirmary, the place where even Elizabeth was reluctant to exercise her command.

»I need you more than he does.«

»What for?«

»As I said, I can't fly just like that. I need you to take me to the Mainland.«

»Why?«

»You'll see.«

The sense of excitement gave Sheppard extra energy. He was already sitting on the edge of the bed. A rolled up bunch of clothes was thrown at him from somewhere up ahead, where Rodney had his head stuck in a cabinet. He unrolled it to see what he was given. It was a uniform of a very large size, judging by the sleeves. He was about to complain, but the large sleeve turned out to be a pantleg. Rodney obviously had enough sense to get his own uniform. He changed as quickly as he could.

»Wait, wait, wait!« Rodney was at his side, looking anxious. Carson was just around the corner – at least in McKay's nervous mind. Before flitting away, he none-too-gently pulled Sheppard's IV hand to himself and unusually deftly disconnected the apparatus. Quick as he'd come by, he disappeared somewhere else in the infirmary.

»Let's go!« McKay made a three-sixty in confusion; Sheppard had disappeared.

»McKay!« Sheppard whispered at him from the door.

»Wait, wait, wait...« He stepped to one of the cupboards where he picked up a few small boxes and IV bags. He waved them at Sheppard. »We're not coming back just for these.«

»Hurry. Someone will see us!«

»No they won't. There's no one here.«

»What about Ricardo?« The night-shift nurse.

»We sent her off to Zelenka. She'll be away for a while. You only have Carson to worry about.«

»Zelenka's in on this? What do you want me for?« Sheppard asked suspiciously.

»Nothing special.« McKay looked and sounded too innocent.

»In your vocabulary, that means something dangerous, McKay.«

»No. It's not dangerous.« He looked at Sheppard. »I hope.«

»You hope?«

Rodney yanked Sheppard's arm from his place in the doorway. »Let's go!«

Just as he ran after McKay, John spotted nurse Ricardo returning.

ooo

Carson was in a good mood. He had just had a pleasant breakfast with Teyla, who was wearing a particulary lovely dress that day. The weather was nice and there wasn't much work.

However, all that went out of the window the moment he stepped over the threshold of the infirmary. He entered an empty room; unusually silent and dark, no one came to greet him. The nurses on duty often had to help in the labs, so that wasn't so unusual. More worrying was the fact that Sheppard wasn't in or anywhere near his bed.

He was at the bed in one stride, as if expecting it would tell him where his patient had gone. As it happened, that was the case. A piece of paper waited for him on halphazardly ordered bedclothes. In McKay's writing, it said: »Gone to the Mainland. Be back by supper. Take the day off.«

For one moment, the thought that Rodney had kidnapped Colonel Sheppard invaded Carson's mind, but he immediately discarded it as stupid. More likely it was Sheppard's idea in the first place.

Carson felt anger mixed with worry wash over him. Of all the irresponsible actions...

»Irina!« he called the nurse, remembering a moment later that she wasn't in the infirmary. He tapped his radio. »Major Lorne, can you please come to the infirmary.«

»Right away,« came the reply.

»Carson, what's wrong?« Elizabeth's voice sounded in his earpiece. Apparently he used the public channel. Bugger. He switched to private.

»Colonel Sheppard's missing.«

»Missing?«

»Well, I got a note from Rodney. They went to the Mainland.«

Lorne entered the infirmary just in time to hear the last sentence.

»Oh,« said Elizabeth. »They probably went to visit the Athosians.«

»Athosians?«

Lorne picked that up and called another of his team to contact the Mainland settlement. He patted the doctor's arm in a calming 'we'll find them' gesture.

»Is the Colonel well enough to go?« Elizabeth asked. Lorne shook his head; they weren't at the Athosian settlement.

»No,« Carson cried, getting a strange look from Lorne. He knew it wasn't absolutely certain, but it was more than likely that Colonel Sheppard wasn't up to his usual adventures yet.

»Don't worry,« said Lorne calmingly. »We'll find them.«

»I want to go with you.«

»Okay, doc.«

Carson informed Elizabeth of his plans. »Take Ronon with you,« she suggested. Ronon was a part of the team anyway, and the whole military contingent was grateful anytime they could get out of sparring practice with the Satedan. »Good luck,« said Elizabeth.

»Come on, doc,« Lorne said. »Let's go.«

ooo

Flying a puddlejumper was a miracle cure for John Sheppard. He looked infinitely better than just twenty minutes earlier.

Rodney stole a fast glance at his friend and just as quickly glued his eyes back to the screen. He made to look like he was typing intently on the computer, doing something scientific. He hoped he was quick enough to make that impression. Unfortunately for him, the only game that fit those requirements was Tetris.

»McKay...« Sheppard interrupted his concentration on the falling blocks.

»What?« He managed to sound far more irritated than he really was.

»You needed me to fly you, in a jumper, to the Mainland, just so you could play...« He leaned over and took a quick peek at McKay's laptop screen.

»Hey!«

»...Tetris!«

How on Earth did Sheppard see through his ruse? Rodney was doing his best to hide the fact, but Sheppard must've had ESP.

»Well...« he really didn't know what to say.

»What is so scientifically important about a computer game? Antique one at that.«

»Tetris is a classic, not an antique.«

»You keep deluding yourself, McKay. So, why are we on our way to the Mainland?«

»Well, if you must know, I needed a break. I started making stupid mistakes, Zelenka was getting the better of me, that sort of thing. I had to take a day off, so I came to get you, and we're heading to the Mainland...«

»And why do you need me? You can fly a jumper.«

Rodney didn't even try to think of an excuse. »You were so much better and I thought you could use a few hours away from Carson's hysteria and voodoo rituals.«

»I see.«

»I'm sor...«

Sheppard didn't let his friend finish that sentence. »Thank you, Rodney.« He gave a few moments' attention to the jumper controls, then turned back. »Carson'll have your hide, though.«

»You think so?« McKay sounded panicked.

»Oh, yeah.« Sheppard's open show of mischief told Rodney it was all in fun. Unfortunately he couldn't share the sentiment, because he was _a dead man_! He sighed as loudly as he could.

»Where on the Mainland exactly are we going?«

»Córdoba.« How exactly they started naming all the beaches after Spanish cities was a mystery among Atlanteans. The legend had it that it was Ford's idea to name that first beach. It didn't really sound like Ford, so that was unlikely. Some suspected their Spanish military contingent, but those men didn't seem to know much about it either.

McKay continued: »We won't be bothered, nobody's booked it yet.«

»Cool.« Sheppard felt even livelier than as much as three minutes earlier, but there was one little fly in the ointment – even if he were able, one couldn't surf at Córdoba.

ooo

A few minutes later they touched down on a small sandy plateau that was the designated jumper landing spot. It was the only part of the beach that was relatively clear of trees in a radius big enough for the jumper.

Rodney stepped out of the jumper and theatrically and loudly breathed in the beach air. Sheppard smirked behind his back: »Perfect weather.« It truly was. The temperature was just right to make the fairly warm weather feel cool, a breeze blew from the sea and the sky was speckled with medium-sized cumulus clouds, their puffy crowns reminscent of sailboats.

»Okay,« Rodney rubbed his hands. »Let's go to work.« After a moment he added: »That means I'll go to work, not you.«

»Hey! I may not be completely recovered, but I'm well enough to do something.«

»Yeah? Like what?«

»You didn't drag me all the way here just so you could cram it down my throat that I'm too sick to do as much as putting a few beers on the ice.«

»No beer.«

That surprised Sheppard. He knew very well that alcohol was off limits because he was still on medication, but that didn't mean Rodney couldn't drink alcohol. »What do we have?«

Rodney was already next to the small shed that they used for storage of the items commonly used on the beach. »We have Coke, Bitter Lemon, Evian and that Czech thing Zelenka keeps drinking,« Rodney said as he pulled out two foldable wooden deck chairs.

»And no lemonade?«

»Oh, ha ha,« Rodney spat. If that was what a cheerful Sheppard was going to be the whole day, he already regretted taking him with him.

The man in question turned around and got the provisions from the jumper. »Where should I put this?« he called.

»Over here!« Rodney was already setting up the chairs not far from a barbecue grill in the semi-shade of a particularly thick tree canopy.

Sheppard brought over a picnic basket and plopped down on the same deck chair Rodney was going to use. The scientist stood rigid, miffed, staring at his friend. »This one's already unfolded.« John said by way of explanation with his best innocent expression. Rodney huffed in resentment.

»What do we have here?« Sheppard said, opening the basket.

»That one should have sandwiches and fruit,« Rodney said, then stretched out on the other deck chair. »Give me a sandwich.«

Sheppard was getting better, attested by his improved aim as the wrapped sandwich struck Rodney's shoulder.

»Sorry.«

»It's a good thing you're a sick man, otherwise...«

»You got it, didn't you?«

»Yes.«

»What do we do now?«

»Nothing.«

»Nothing sounds good.«

And that's what they did.

ooo

Ronon was grateful for an excuse to get away from Atlantis. His team had been essentially grounded for the past two weeks and the gym offered only so much distraction. More so because people started to avoid him for some reason and endless sparring with Teyla just didn't seem appealing.

As soon as he heard from Carson that he was needed he was ready to go. Knowing his team, »went to the Mainland« meant »went to the beach«. The doctor hadn't said where exactly they were going, but it wasn't a problem.

Ronon accessed the intranet database of the beaches. Atlanteans frequented a small collection of beaches. The database contained reservations for the beaches - whenever one of them was in use it would be noted. Ronon scanned the list and found McKay's name next to Córdoba. It was marked »private please«, meaning the beach was taken. A day on the beach was just what he needed. He slipped his blaster into the holster and walked off towards the jumper bay.

ooo

The flight to the Mainland was unusually tense. Lorne looked a little anxious, but he couldn't hold a candle to Carson Beckett. The doctor was visibly jittery and snappy and his flying was worse than a concussed Rodney's. The nervous atmosphere in the jumper was starting to affect Ronon. He couldn't wait to get to the beach. Hopefully his teammates took something good to eat with them. He was even prepared to drink coffee.

As they ran into another bump that came from nowhere Ronon recognized the path that led to Córdoba.

»Go there,« he pointed his finger towards it.

Carson spared him a half-second glance. »We don't have the time. Who knows what sort of trouble they're in by now.«

»But...«

Even Lorne didn't let him finish his sentence. »He's right. There's a clearing there,« he indicated a point on the HUD, »near the Athosian settlement. Good landing spot. They might have started from there.«

»Right,« said Beckett and made a turn towards the area. It was only then he realized that he didn't know exactly where he was going to look for the missing men.

»They...«

»They might have left some clues,« Lorne finished Ronon's sentence. It was not what Ronon wanted to say.

The Satedan leaned back in the chair. He was hoping they'd just land on the beach and enjoy the rest of the day, but the other two didn't seem to want to listen to him. If Lorne surprised him, he knew the doctor's propensity to worry too much. It wasn't healthy, yet he had no idea how to help; or whether he should at all. Melena never fell prey to such anxieties, nor did any of her superiors. Melena... Ronon diverted his thoughts as quickly as he could.

He couldn't wait to relax on the beach with his teammates. Not all was lost. He would go to the settlement, pick Teyla up, then walk to the beach. They'd be there a little later but that didn't matter.

ooo

»Drinks?«

»Yeah. I'll have Bitter Lemon.«

Rodney could've sworn Sheppard chose that on purpose. Why exactly did Zelenka pack that anyway?

»Are you sure quinine won't clash with your antibiotics?«

»There's not that much of it!«

»But still...«

»I'm sure. Well, if you can't get me any beer...«

Rodney sighed and disappeared in the jumper, only to reappear a second later with the box and something white in his other hand.

Sheppard turned around in his chair to face his friend. He couldn't help but laugh out loud. The white thing was a pair of latex gloves, which McKay promptly donned before opening the box. He picked up a bottle of Schweppes, and, holding it as far away from his body as possible, half-threw it towards Sheppard who caught it without a problem. He also held on to it, which was an improvment. McKay took the gloves off and threw them as far as possible into a bush.

»You better pick those up before we leave,« John said as he opened the bottle with a pop.

»No, I won't. Do you want me to choke on my own swollen throat?

»No.« He took a long gulp of the drink, prompting his friend to move another step away from him. A second later McKay covered his discomfort by walking away to get his own drink.

The next time Rodney came near Sheppard, the pilot sniffed audiably. »Sunblock?« He asked.

»Of course. I'm not getting horrible sunburn just because of a day on the beach.«

»No, you're not.«

»I suppose you're completely unprotected.«

»You dragged me here directly from the infirmary. Even if I wanted, I wouldn't have had the opportunity. Besides, we're in the shade. No danger here.«

Rodney hadn't heard the last two sentences as he disappeared in the jumper. A few seconds later a bottle of a commerical sunblock hit Sheppard. He stared at it for a few moments – it had SPF 50.

»Want mine?« Rodney asked as he returned to his deck chair.

»No way. I have no idea what you did with it, but it's repulsive.«

»Repulsive?«

»Yeah, it's bad enough I have to smell you every time we gate to a sunnier planet.«

»So it's the smell?«

»Yeah.« He waved a hand in frustration. »You always smell sweetish, like a girl...« His face lit up in recognition. »Hey, you smell like Elizabeth!«

»What? No I don't,« McKay whimpered.

»Yes, you do.«

»Are you implying I'm using her perfume?«

»Of course not! I don't even know which perfume she uses...«

»Boss Woman,« said Rodney to himself in an automatic reply. Sheppard wisely decided not to ask how he knew the name of the perfume. So, he continued his other complaint. »...I'm just saying your sunblock, or whatever it is you make, smells like she usually does.«

»Oh.« Rodney fell into a state of deflation as he always did when someone presented an argument he had no answer to. »Oh. I borrow cocoa butter from her,« he admitted.

»Gotcha!« Sheppard smiled.

Rodney just looked ashamed.

»Why don't you just stop using cocoa butter?« Sheppard asked after a few moments.

»I can't,« Rodney said dejectedly. »It's one of the main ingredients.«

ooo

Lorne glanced behind his back to look at the doctor. Again. Beckett glared back. It was at least the third time he'd done that. Maybe the fifth. Or fifteenth.

They were on a footpath of sorts. Lorne walked comfortably with his gun and the supplies in his vest. The physician was carrying a cumbersome-looking case of medical supplies. Evan wondered why Beckett didn't use a backpack to store his supplies in.

They had landed in the clearing near the Athosian settlement. They'd expected to see the other jumper there but to their surprise the clearing was empty. They had found some tracks and cracked twigs the two missing people left behind. He thought it was unusual that Ronon didn't join in on the search, what with him being far more experienced at tracking than the two of them put together. The man seemed disinterested, even bored. So, they parted ways. They'd followed their trail and Ronon went off in the direction he claimed their missing people were.

The silence started to feel oppressive and Lorne couldn't take it anymore.

»Doc,« he asked, »How serious is Colonel Sheppard's condition? I mean, is he healed enough?«

»You mean to say how great a setback this could be? The Colonel is not fully healed yet. Too much physical activity at this point would exhaust his immune system and he could completely relapse.«

Lorne took a moment to avoid collision with a giant butterfly that appeared to be either flying blind or trying to hit his face deliberately. He heard a quiet muffled sound from behind him. Apparently Beckett wasn't as good at avoiding kamikaze butterflies.

»But that won't necessarily happen.«

Beckett uttered a reluctant, »No.«

The footpath crossed a centipede trail and Evan had to stop and watch a whole procession of bugs scatter before him. He felt Beckett stopping behind him, also staring at the unusual procession.

»Of course, it's impossible for this to have been completely involuntary on the Colonel's part,« he said.

Lorne had had enough of waiting and rather carefully stepped over the flow of the centipedes in a very large stride that almost knocked him off-balance. The last centipede had crossed the path a split second after he stopped over them. He literally growled at Beckett, who calmly stepped on the empty ground.

The two men carefully stepped around another of the kamikaze butterflies that circled a tree.

ooo

Sheppard enjoyed the warm sun on his face – something he missed dearly after eleven days in the infirmary and five days on a wintery planet before that. He still wasn't completely sure why exactly Rodney had dragged him to a beach, but it worked magic on him. He hadn't felt this well since he'd first fallen ill.

He opened his eyes to search for his friend, spotting him almost immediately at the shoreline. McKay was rummaging for something on the ground. John stood up and stealthily walked over to him.

»What'cha doing?«

McKay flinched violently. He would've hit Sheppard square in the nose, if the soldier hadn't had the instinct to step away first. »Don't do that!« he cried.

»Hey, it's not my fault you're not paying attention.«

»'Paying attention'? I didn't expect you to come by and ambush me. You were asleep!«

»I was not!« Was he?

»Whatever.« McKay made couple of steps forward and bent to pick something up. »Aha! Perfect!«

John peeked from behind his back to see Rodney holding a round stone. »What are you going to do with that?«

Rodney's only response was throwing the stone at the water. It elegantly bounced off the surface, made another three skips and sunk a few meters away from them.

Sheppard whistled. Rodney grunted in displeasure, then walked along the beach, followed by his teammate. »I've done better,« he said.

»I didn't even know you could skip stones.«

»Well, yeah...« McKay bent for another stone, threw it away when he saw it wasn't a good one, then shot Sheppard a nasty glare when he saw the other man already held three perfect stones in his hand. He went on, waving his hand. »Remember I told you about my uncle, the outdoorsman, who always dragged me off to camp?«

»Yeah.« Sheppard remembered McKay once telling him he had a camping-nut uncle, although that was the only fact that he remembered.

»He _insisted_ I learn all these 'skills'. I wasn't allowed to leave a vacation without them. My sister was always the lucky one. Aunt Genie taught her useful things, like medicinal herbs and things like that.«

»Aunt Genie?«

»Geneviève.«

»Mhm.«

»Okay, Colonel. If you're so interested in what I'm doing, you show me your unfathomable skill.«

Sheppard grimaced, but threw the stone anyway. It flew in a large arch toward the water and promptly sunk. »Can I use a golf club?« he asked helplessly.

Rodney glared at him as though it had been revealed that his best friend was, in fact, a gerbil. »You can't skip stones?« he asked incredulously.

»Never learnt.«

»Gimme that.« McKay impatiently shook his hand at Sheppard, indicating the stones.

»First; it's not a hand grenade. You don't throw it like this.« He did his best to imitate Sheppard's way of throwing the stone, which came out as a bad imitation of ballet. »Just stand normally, like this,« he motioned Sheppard into position, »and throw it like this.«

John took one stone from McKay. He threw it and on the second try, he managed one skip.

»That's more like it,« McKay smiled. »Try more.« He handed him the rest of the stones they'd gathered.

John found that he was rapidly improving with a little more instruction.

In the meantime, Rodney gathered more stones.

After a few more tries, John decided he was becoming tired. He walked over to a group of rocks and sat on one. He watched as Rodney threw another stone, which now made about eight skips and listened as the man uttered something like a »gnah«. Rodney tried again.

»You want real physical, outdoorsy things, Rodney?« he said suddenly. »How about I teach you how to surf?«

»Surf? You mean standing on a piece of wood or whatever and looking like an idiot?«

»More or less.«

»Then no. I have no need to be embarrassed. Find someone else. You can teach Teyla.«

»Aw, come on, McKay. What makes you think you'd be embarrassed?« John didn't mention the fact that he'd already tried to teach Teyla how to surf and that she gave him a firm »no« after two lessons. She was, however, almost ready to finally try golf out.

»Because things like that always do.«

»Like what?«

»Moving around for fun.« McKay waved his hand in the air, making John instinctively flinch, afraid that the stone in the physicist's hand would get thrown into him.

»Exercise.«

»Um... yeah.« McKay suddenly adopted a deer-in-the-headlights look, as if he was afraid he'd told too much to an enemy.

»Has Ronon said something?«

When it came to physical training, which Ronon insisted on for the team, the Satedan tended to complain or say things that could be interpreted as insults or belittling although Ronon only meant them as an encouragment. Between the lines, Sheppard could read Ronon was fairly satisfied with McKay's progress, but he also knew Ronon wouldn't stop until their teammate could easily pass for a body builder.

»No, no. I just know myself, okay?«

»What? You're not Homo sapiens?«

Rodney glared daggers at him.

»McKay, everyone can do exercise, we're that sort of an animal. It's not like I'm asking you to dance.«

»That's a matter of talent.«

»Exactly. Exericse is only a matter of moving your joints. Don't tell me you can't do that, because I've seen you.«

»Fine!« McKay crossed his arms. Sheppard wondered how Rodney had become convinced that physical activity wasn't for him. Was it just because he was labeled a geek and had long since learnt to play the part? John couldn't think of any other reason. A lot of people were actually afraid of being unfit, of getting tired quickly, rather than physical activity itself. It was, however, a short-lived thing and being scared of it was stupid. He had to agree with Ronon there. Was it really some social stupidity that prevented him from teaching his best friend how to surf; and frankly, his last chance at getting a friend to share the sport? He didn't want to accept that, whatever it was.

»Come on, McKay, just one lesson. We won't even get wet. Then you can say no.«

McKay stayed silent for a few moments, then he let his arms loose. »Fine.«

»Great!« Sheppard grinned the biggest grin and slapped Rodney's shoulder. »You won't regret it.«

»I'm sure I will.«

ooo

When Lorne was offered a posting on Atlantis, his superiors' descriptions were full of glory, adventure and defending the Earth and the greater good. He knew most of it was bullshit – the SGC was supposed to be that too, and it wasn't that different from anywhere else he'd been before.

Atlantis, however, did turn out different. It wasn't glorious and adventurous, but what the place lacked there, it more than made up for in weird people, strange occurences – it fought a valiant battle with the SGC there – and beautiful vistas. It also had something the SGC never did; an annoying doctor. The Scot still hadn't shut up.

Lorne could understand him. After all, he was a little worried himself, but the incessant complaints were starting to go on his nerves. Evan himself was known to ignore some of the doctor's orders when he felt better, so some of what he'd heard now wasn't entirely to his liking. The only person he was prepared to show patience toward was Janet Fraiser.

He'd had enough of the noise from behind. If he had to be miserable, he wanted to be only as miserable as necessary. »Doc!« he called behind his back.

»What?«

»Can you, please, just shut up for a few minutes.«

»I'm just worried.«

Carson Beckett was used to being anxious. He was a doctor; one of those who chose the profession simply because there was nothing in the world they wanted to be doing more. He wouldn't mind if he got paid in sacks of wheat. He loved caring for patients so much that even though he became enamored by genetics, he couldn't let go completely and went into gene therapy research just so he wouldn't lose contact. The side effect of that was constant worry.

Coming to Atlantis was a dream for Carson; he could do his research and take care of a small number of patients. That allowed him to invest himself in their care more. The nightmare part of the dream was that forty percent of his time was dedicated to two insufferable men who had the unfortunate trait of being his friends.

His musings were interrupted by the sudden disappearance of Major Lorne. One moment the soldier was there and the next he wasn't.

»Major?« he called.

The only thing that answered him was the quiet sound of the breeze, and a few animal noises. Carson looked harder; maybe they'd run into a hidden teleporter. He couldn't see anything that even remotely resembled the major. All that was in front of him was an interminable forest and an insect that looked like a dragonfly with thick wings. In the split second before his conscious thoughts took over, his brain wondered whether they'd run into a witch that turned the major into a Pegasus insect. Although that was somewhat more likely to happen in the Pegasus Galaxy than on Earth, it was still in the realm of the fantastic. The insect flapping before him probably wasn't Evan Lorne. He called again.

»Down here,« came the answer from the ground next to his feet. He looked down. Of course he'd heard of cases of people shrinking, but those were science fiction stories. Not that those were all that far from Pegasus reality.

»Doc?«

Carson inspected the grass under his feet – there were no tiny majors there. Was he of a microscopic size now?

»Where are you, Major?«

»In a hole, in front of you.«

Carson almost collapsed to his knees in reflex. He scanned the ground and found the hole, almost overgrown with a vine-like plant. He quickly stuck his head into the hole. That wasn't very wise – he hit something hard first.

»Ow!«

He rubbed his forehead in a gesture copied by Lorne. He caught the major looking at him, the man's head not a foot away from him. The hole was very, very shallow.

»Are you okay, Major?«

»Yeah, just scrapes.« And a hurt pride. Carson knew the condition well – he saw it at work almost every day. He scooted back a little so he could have a better grip on the soldier. He extended an arm. »Are you sure?«

»I think so. The walls are full of twigs and roots. Sharp stuff. No broken bones, I'm sure,« hissed the major.

»Well, I'll s...« Carson swallowed the rest of the word as the ground beneath him rolled away. The fall took his conscious thought for a second and the next thing his mind processed were the words: »Yeah, there are some bruises too,« that echoed in his chest cavity. He scooted back away from Lorne. His back hit a pile of pebbles. He turned his head to look at the offending rocks and saw that the ground was made out of a very loose conglomerate, which released the pebbles as it broke down under his weight. It was a good thing the pebbles were inanimate matter, othwerwise they would have whimpered and scattered under his glare.

»Aye, I believe I share your troubles, Major.«

The soldier stayed silent. »Major?«

Carson turned around and saw the Major staring at the other wall of the hole that did not exist anymore. Before them was an open space.

»Wow!« said Lorne in awe.

They were sitting in an alcove the hole had turned into and the open space on that side wasn't really an open space as much as it was a bigger hole; a very long one with sky for the ceiling. A miniature canyon, not much taller than Lorne. A small brook ran along its bottom. If viewed from above, the top of Lorne's hair would be seen peeking out of the little canyon. It would look like a patch of an unsual grass. Something did notice that.

Lorne yelped in surprise, and a little fear too, as he felt a set of fangs imbed themselves into the skin on his head. He also felt a slight pull on his hair.

»What's wrong? Are you in pain, Major?« Carson asked.

»No, I...« Before he could utter anything else, both men were surprised by more movement of the ground underneath them. Apparently, it surprised whathever clung onto the major because the pain from the claws intensified. Lorne groaned in response.

»Major,« whispered Carson. »I think we should try to climb up there. Right now!«

»Agreed,« hissed Lorne. »I was just thinking the same.«

The two started moving with as much haste as they could, but in a second it proved a futile effort as the ground finally gave in completely and slid underneath the two men. By the time they realized what had happened, they were sprawled in the brook. _On_ the brook, in fact, as it couldn't have been any deeper than four inches. They were both completely drenched by the splash.

»Right, just my dream day,« muttered Lorne.

»A dream date?« asked Carson, carefully pulling himself upright.

Lorne automatically tried to scratch his hair where the claw marks smarted only to find the animal, or whatever it was, still attached. He yelped in surprise.

»What is it?« Carson sounded scared.

»Something's attached itself to my head.« Lorne's first thought scared him; could it be an iratus bug? It was unlikely; they had never spotted any of the creatures on the Mainland, and they knew for a fact that the bugs attached themselves either to necks or arms of creatures. According to some legends they also went for tails, if they came across large enough animals. Never the head.

Hesitantly, he looked over to the major to see whether he'd been attacked by one of the Expedition's sworn enemies (as Colonel Sheppard declared, mock officially, on one occasion). His first impression was that Lorne looked as wet as he felt. Upon second look, focused on Lorne's head, he inadvertently started laughing. Lorne's eyes grew twice their normal size as the soldier stared at the doctor in surprise.

»I'm sorry, Major.« Carson swallowed the end of the last word in a guffaw. He waved his hand in a placating gesture. »I don't think it's anything worrying. Look in the mirror,« he indicated the water.

Lorne did as the laughing man suggested. As he moved, the thing on top of his head flattened itself against him. The urge to remove it as soon as he felt it was overwhelming. Obviously, that was impossible, seeing as the animal kept its hold on his scalp all through their fall. The reflection in the water startled him. On top of his head, partially hidden among his hair, was a small lizard. A chameleon, in fact, not very different from his Earth cousins, except for an additional pair of legs and vivid, almost neon, colors. Its eyes were darting around, and rolling on their cones in anxiety. Now that Lorne paid more attention, it was emitting quiet noises. Not unlike hissing, but with its high pitch, it sounded more comical than anything. The animal held onto his head for dear life, seemingly intent on not moving from its spot at all.

»I think you scared it,« tittered his companion.

»I don't care what I did to it. Just get it off!«

»Why me?«

»You're the doc.«

»I do not specialize in herpetology.«

»It hurts and I'm wet and it's your job to help me.«

»Alright. Try shaking your head. Maybe it will go away.«

The lizard seemed to relax a little and it let go of some of the pressure on its claws, but it did stay almost glued to Lorne's head and started nervoulsy munching on his hair.

»I don't think so. Try pulling it off,« urged Lorne vehemently.

»We don't know what that could do to you.«

»It's a chameleon. The only thing it has is claws. And they're small.«

»It's an alien chameleon!«

»So?«

»It might be like the iratus bug, make everything worse.«

Lorne rolled his eyes. »It's a good thing Colonel Sheppard isn't here.« As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized what he'd said. Of course he was referring to the fact that the Colonel objected to any mention of any bug. If posssible, Sheppard would outlaw any conversation that involved as much as flyswatters. However, Lorne and Doctor Beckett were on the search for the same man. Lorne knew the doctor felt responsible and reminding him of that wasn't something to cheer him up. The momentum the Scot had visibly disappeared.

»Right.« Beckett stood up then, dripping. Without saying anything, he wrapped a hand around the chameleon and tried to pull it off.

Small as the lizard was, it had a lot of strength. Carson couldn't even roll it, it had stuck itself to Lorne's head so hard. It whimpered slightly and nervously chewed on more of Lorne's hair.

Carson then tried with both hands and it didn't have any effect either.

»Ow, be careful, Doc!« Lorne cried. »It'll eat all my hair.« True to those words, the lizard pulled out a wisp of Lorne's hair.

»Don't you want it away?«

»Yes, but I don't want a bleeding, bald head along with that.«

»I know, but what can I do? Pour iodine on it?«

»Whatever; you're the one who knows this stuff.«

Carson shrugged, and opened his case, which had managed to survive the fall without a dent. Water had been tried already, since the lizard was soaked as well when they fell into the brook. The physician took out a bottle of alcohol instead, assuming that was the safest bet.

He poured half the bottle over Lorne's head. Lorne screamed quietly, Carson thought what a baby the soldier was – alcohol smarted, but never for long. As for the lizard, the effect was instantaneous. It didn't let go, but the alcohol did set it in motion. It wobbled slightly, its eyes rolled around in a strange way and three of its legs started stooping in an uncoordinated way. It emitted very quiet chirping noises. Carson sighed.

»What is it? Is it gone?« Lorne's voice held a slight tinge of panic.

»No, I only inebriated the wee beastie.« The lizard flopped over onto its side, but still held on with five of its legs.

»You made him drunk?«

»It behaves exactly like my Uncle Thomas after his eighth pint.«

»Crap. Well, try something else! Something that'll work.«

»I can't think of anything that I could use that wouldn't harm you.«

»What about the other disinfectants?«

»If it didn't react to this, it's not likely it'll react to them.«

»Try tickling it for all I care! Just get it off.« The water was doing the same to Lorne's legs and he clearly couldn't wait to get away. He pulled himself to his feet, trying very hard not to hit his head on the nearest rock or tree.

Beckett followed him out of the brook. Shrugging his shoulders, he tried Lorne's suggestion, likely as it was to work as any other. He tickled the chameleon's tail; a hard job in and of itself what with the wild flailing of said appendage. It did the trick, though.

The lizard fell off Lorne's head and ungracefully landed among the rocks at his feet.

Lorne looked no less surprised than Beckett. »Huh. Guess it worked.«

»Aye.«

»Or your secret recipe for alcohol.«

Unfortunately for Lorne, it didn't work as well as they'd thought. The lizard changed its tune into a sort of melodic whimpering and wobbled back over to Lorne, alternately dragging some of its legs, wildly rolling its eyes every few seconds. It clambered onto the major's boot and latched itself onto his ankle.

»Oh, you've got to be kidding me!« Lorne sighed. »That's it, I'm going back to the jumper.«

»What?«

»I'm soaked through and through, I have itching scrapes, and I have an alien lizard stuck to my leg.«

»Major, have you forgotten why we're here?«

»No, I haven't, but there's no sense in us getting killed over the fact that you don't know where the Colonel is.«

»We're not getting killed.«

»In this place?« Lorne gestured at the woods around them, replete with dangerous-sounding bird noises.

»Might I remind you, Major, that your superior officer is ill and missing.«

»We could try contacting Atlantis, see if they'd found him yet. It's not as if he's in any danger.« He cringed. »Well, not any more than the two of us.«

Carson opened his mouth, but apparently he had run out of words. He looked at the soldier imploringly, baring all his anxiety and possibly a little self-doubt.

Lorne had a kind heart, no matter how he tried hiding it. »Fine,« he said, shaking his foot in an unserious attempt to get rid of the lizard.

Carson was in motion in a second, limping barely perceptively in the direction the brook ran. Lorne took off his jacket, shaking it a little, which made droplets of water spray all around him. Before he followed the Scot, he tied his jacket around his waist and sighed. It wasn't only wet, it was heavy too.

ooo

»Medicine time.«

Sheppard was just about to walk the shoreline again when Rodney came to stand before him, like a wall to separate him from the water. The physicist looked somewhat put upon – imitating a teacher – and tapped his watch theatrically. John played along. »Do we have to?« he said in his best impression of a petulant schoolchild.

»Yes, we do. We're three seconds late, in fact.«

John couldn't think of anything else to say, so he just extended his arm. Both he and Rodney glanced around the air above them.

»Ahem, yes. I thought we might go back to the jumper for the time being. Places to hang and...« Rodney cringed discreetly, »less chance of infection.«

John raised an eyebrow. He knew Rodney sometimes kindly extended his hypochondria to his teammates, but he was also pretty sure an IV line was water- and air-tight. Still, where it came to the thing, John had to admit to himself, even if he'd never admit to others, that he'd rather hide inside a jumper than having an IV pole next to him where theoretically anybody could see him.

Rodney impatiently waved him over from the jumper's ramp. John followed.

Once in the jumper, he obediently sat on a bench, waiting as McKay unpacked the IV kit. Carson had designated Rodney a medic before they'd even left for Atlantis on the excuse that if they had to put up with Rodney's hypochondria they might as well put it to good use. So McKay had been involuntarily instructed for various medic and nursing duties. He never really complained. Carson did, as some of this knowledge had to be imparted to Teyla as well since it was Rodney himself that often drew the short straw. However, although none of the people involved would ever admit it, Rodney was good at it.

Sheppard began peeling the three Band Aids from his wrist where Rodney had placed them to prevent infection (slightly paranoidly; John would stake his pilot's license that one was enough) when a far more important matter crossed his mind. He turned to look at his friend who was standing next to him, hanging the bag on one of the tablet hooks on the netting.

»Do you think Carson insists on IV antibiotics just to get back at us?«

»I don't know. Could be.«

Sheppard shrugged. »Hey, what are we going to do now?«

»I don't know,« McKay said, seemingly surprised, as he uncoiled the tubing.

»You don't?«

»Do I look like an entertainment director?«

»No.«

»Try to think of something yourself. I just take care of your antibiotics.«

»Play charades?«

»No,« McKay stated firmly. Not long ago the team was stuck along with several marines on a completely empty balcony during a power outage. With nothing else to do, they played charades. Teyla had taken to the game a lot, but she was horribly untalented for pantomime. When the door finally opened thirty minutes later he was traumatized for life.

»I'll let you do the miming.« Sheppard intentionally waved his hand as McKay reached for the port. The physicist huffed and tried to catch his hand. He didn't give any indication whether he realized it was on purpose.

»Play poker?« Sheppard suggested next. McKay didn't even dignify that suggestion with an answer. Poker with only two players was even less exciting than watching paint dry. Sheppard continued: »Solitaire tournament? Got any movies?«

»That we could do,« Rodney said. He walked over to the part of storage where they kept the DVDs. He rummaged around, looking at the covers. Sheppard watched the flow in his IV.

»No movies,« Rodney said, disappointed. »Just TV shows.«

»Okay. We'll watch two. What do you have?«

McKay dug around, throwing the cases onto the bench. Grimacing. After he apparently couldn't find anything anymore he turned to Sheppared with a decidedly disgusted expression. »Wormhole X-Treme and Desperate Housewives.«

Sheppard looked shocked at that revelation too. »Who watches that?«

»Certainly not me.«

»Don't look at me.«

»Teyla?«

»Nah,« they shook their heads. They knew Teyla had taken to films, but neither was sure about her preferences. Silently, each man hoped that she was not a Desperate Housewives fan.

»Lorne's team sometimes uses this jumper,« Sheppard suggested.

Rodney gave him a look, then turned around and disappointedly sighed. »Wormhole X-Treme, then.«

»You sure we don't have anything else?«

»No. The X-Files always disappear in...«

»...Elizabeth's quarters,« they said simultaneously.

»Star Trek is permanently dispersed in your department,« added Sheppard.

»Hey, it's not only the scientists. Your military also steals Star Trek. Especially TNG. It's not like we have five copies of each just because.«

Sheppard coughed in embarrasment. »No Law and Order either.«

»Carson,« Rodney said, with a slightly disgusted expression. It wasn't his thing, really, but he knew some people wanted to watch it and couldn't get to it. He turned towards Sheppard.

»So, which Wormhole X-Treme eps do you have?«

»Rules of Engagement, Tour of Duty, Deadly Planet...«

»That the one...«

»The one where Denning drives the tricycle thing into the burning cave and Krell eats the green fruit, yes.«

»Cool. I liked that one.«

»You would.« He nonetheless placed the DVD in the computer he hung from the ceiling and sat down next to his friend. »As soon as we get back I'm planting these DVDs into the Star Trek boxes,« he muttered.

ooo

Lorne pulled at his tee in frustration. He felt distinctly uncomfortable not having his jacket on. The T-shirt didn't provide the protection he was used to, but the jacket was too wet to feel comfortable anywhere else than on his waist.

He regretted volunteering for this mission. Not that it was all Doc Beckett's fault. Like the rest of the Expedition, Lorne's own team gossiped about Sheppard's team's propensity for trouble. A day off, for the Colonel and his team, wasn't much less dangerous than a day at the office. Everybody on the expedition knew it; the job description for Sheppard's team was: trouble.

Like at least ten times before, he asked himself whether Beckett even knew where they were going. It was the general direction to the parts Atlanteans frequented, but that wasn't saying much because of the sheer size of the Mainland. They were looking for one certain molehill in all of Asia.

Maybe Beckett had a sixth sense that he never divulged.

Lorne's musings were interrupted by a loud yelp and a leg hitting his lower back.

»Ow!«

It wasn't bad enough to cause pain, but surprise hurt. A lot. He turned around to see what happened and was met with Beckett dangling from a tree branch. It must have snapped up as they walked over it.

»Doc?«

»Aye.«

»What happened?« The second the words left his mouth he realized it was a stupid question. »Are you hurt?«

»I don't think so.«

»You don't know?« Didn't they teach people in medical school how to self-assess?

»I'm sure to have some bruises to rival yours, Major.« That was a given, Lorne figured. The Doc was hanging off a branch, about twelve feet in the air. He held on, or was being held, by armpits hooked over the branch.

»Won't you come down?«

»I'd love to, Major, but in case you haven't noticed, the ground is rather far away and my arms aren't exactly free.«

»It's not that high, Doc. I'll help you.«

»You do realise that I can break my leg?«

Lorne sighed. It was true, but it was also true that one could do the same falling one foot if the position was awkward enough. It was a stupid argument. »So you intend to hang up there until that branch wilts?«

»Ach...« Beckett pretended it was a sound of pain and not due to the fact that Lorne was right.

»Come on, at least maneuver your arms off.«

»Aye.« Beckett managed to turn around and place his arms in another position, but was still holding onto the branch by his armpits for dear life.

»Now swing.«

»Swing? I'm a doctor, not a monkey.«

»Close enough to a chimp.«

»Are you saying I'm a chimpanzee?«

»No, but we look similar enough to chimps and they swing.«

»And just how will me impersonating an ape help with my getting off this tree?«

»Will you just swing?«

»Fine, fine,« grumbled Carson and carefully lowered himself until he hung on only by his hands. »I hope you're not just making it up.«

»I'm not. It gives you momentum.«

»Right.«

Carson then swung carefully, awkwardly, but workably. Lorne set himself up, close enough that he could catch the Scot should he fall the wrong way. Beckett let go. He fell almost the right way (he wouldn't be booted from basic training, that was for sure) and Lorne helped steady him the last foot or so. It wasn't a very smart move as Carson's weight pulled him to the ground as well. Lorne rolled over just in time that the ground didn't hit his shoulder too badly. Carson neatly ended his trip to the ground on his side, looking over at his companion. Lorne screamed.

»What?« Carson's discomfort forgotten, he neared the major. The question answered itself as he saw a small rock roll itself towards him. It was light brown, such a pale shade that it could've been mistaken for a shadow on the bare ground. Before he registered that it appeared to be self-powered, it rolled into the inside of his jacket sleeve with a quiet grinding noise. Now Carson uttered an expression of pain.

The stone burnt. It felt as though it was covered in hundreds of tiny spikes, the feeling made worse by damp clothing and skin. Carson remembered why he hated the seaside – jellyfish and far, far worse: sea urchins.

»What was that?« asked Lorne.

Looking at the major's hand, Carson could see a myriad of tiny red pinpricks. They really were attacked by a land version of sea urchin.

»I've no idea.« He carefully shook the stone out of his sleeve. It fell to the ground, revealing that the stone looked exactly as what he expected – light brown and sea urchin-shaped.

Carson carefully rolled it in his hand, it looked harmless enough.. »It looks like it could be a form of limestone,« he commented.

»But not quite it.«

»Aye.«

To their shock, the stone moved slightly as Carson touched a certain spot.

»Sorry, Doc, but no stone I've ever seen did that.«

»Aye, but we're in the Pegasus Galaxy,« Carson said, as if that explained everything. He tried a little more pressure on that spot as if he expected to find a button under the spikes. The stone apparently expected the same and it unfurled at the pressure. It made another grinding noise.

»And it's certainly the first stone I've heard making noise,« Lorne said, now sitting cross-legged and rubbing his wrist.

The stone unfolded further until a small black nose peeked out followed by a pair of tiny black eyes. What Carson held in his hand was neither a stone nor a sea urchin, but a tiny hedgehog. It couldn't've been much larger than a mouse.

»Oh no,« Lorne sighed, »We were attacked by a killer hedgehog.«

Carson rolled the little thing in his plam, mindful of the pressure lest he stick another spike in his hand. The hedgehog had rolled back into a protective ball.

»It was just scared, Major.«

»So? It stuck me. Maybe you doctors don't think much of it, but normal people don't like being stuck with needles; even if it's just a hedgehog.«

Carson gave Lorne such a look it shut him up immediately. »Is your hand alright?« he asked.

»Ye...«

»Oh, never mind. Colonel Sheppard is rubbing off on you. I'll take a look at it myself.«

Lorne was about to answer that, but when Beckett wanted to be fast, he was fast. In an instant, he was at Lorne's side. All Lorne could do was to show him his hand, full of tiny pinpricks of red. The hedgehog was still cowering where the doctor had placed it on the ground.

Upon closer inspection, Carson decided that Lorne's hand was fine, other than the obvious problem. He took a roll of bandage from his case and proceeded to wrap the major's hand.

»What about you? Are you alright?« asked Lorne.

»No worse than you, Major.«

»You're not going to wrap your arm?« Carson hadn't made a move to do that.

»Aye.« As an afterthought he took some of the bandage and tried holding one end on his wrist. Not successfully.

»Let me do it,« said Lorne. Where his own hand was full of pinpricks, Carson had many little scrapes and tiny slices where the needles had scraped along his skin. The man surely wouldn't be any more miserable than himself.

The hedgehog slowly revealed his tiny eyes and, upon seeing that the two giant animals were not paying attention, quickly ran for the woods.

»We should go now,« Carson declared.

»So you're willing to return to the jumper now? Finally,« Lorne finished for himself.

»No, no. We're going that way,« Carson pointed in the direction opposite from where they came.

»I'm achy, I have no idea where we're going and the Colonel is probably okay. I want to go back.«

»No, we're going that way.«

Lorne sighed. »Okay.« As he followed the Scot he looked over at the back of his leg. »Where's the chameleon?« The drunk little lizard wasn't attached to his leg anymore.

ooo

Ten minutes later, Lorne had yet to shut up. »...if we were on a military mission and we'd had a team of soldiers, I'd never have to go through this,« Carson heard from behind his back. He stopped, ready to respond. This was getting annoying. He opened his mouth, but Lorne automatically raised his hand in a 'shut up' signal and did a sweep of the forest behind Carson to see what had stopped the physician. That was the last thing he should've done.

As soon as the soldier's hand was up, a not-quite-roar echoed through the forest. Lorne had just enough time to climb the nearest low branch as what could only be described as a deer charged him.

»I suppose that if were all military, this large gentleman wouldn't be so upset,« said Carson from behind another tree. »It seems what need right now is not a military escort but an animal tamer.« Lorne echoed the animal's sound.

The deer was hissing under Lorne's tree. There appeared to be a universal rule that all animals of the deer family in Pegasus looked practically identical to their Earth cousins. Atlantis' zoologists couldn't explain it, although they had come to an agreement to use the same names for the species of both galaxies.

»Make it go away,« Lorne hissed.

»How? I can't exactly ask him to leave.«

The deer hit the tree with its antlers, causing Lorne to hold on tighter. »You can at least try,« he yelled.

»Um, my dear deer,« Carson started timidly. He couldn't continue as something small but much too colorful to be natural fell from Lorne's tree right in front of the deer. The animal wailed in horror, stood on its hind legs and ran in the direction from which it came.

»What did you throw, Major?«

»What? I didn't throw anything.«

»Something fell from your tree.«

»Well, I didn't throw anything, but whatever chased off that thing, I'm grateful.« Lorne climbed down from the tree.

Carson walked over to where the thing fell and yelped in surprise. In the grass, next to his foot, was a wriggling, colorful, and obviously drunk chameleon.

»I thought you got rid of this one,« Carson called to Lorne.

»Got rid of what?« Lorne came to stand next to the Scot. »Oh.« He took a step back, afraid the lizard would attack him again.

»I wonder why this little thing scared that big deer. Do you think it's dangerous?« Carson sounded timid.

»Well, it saved my hide. I don't even care if it's poisonous.«

»Maybe we should take it with us.«

»No. Absolutely not.«

»We can't leave it here. It's drunk. Who knows how it could harm itself.«

»I don't care.«

»Major!«

»What?« He did his best to look innocent. »I don't.«

»Alright, alright. Hold my bag.« The medical case got thrust into Lorne's lap. Carson walked over and carefully picked up the lizard by its tail. He found a tree with roots interwoven into a shape resembling a cage and placed the lizard in it. »There. He can safely sober up in there.«

A bird shrieked and flew off. The next second, Carson felt an uncomfortable warmth on his shoulder. He looked over and saw a tell-tale white smudge there. Lorne apparently also noticed it, because he started laughing like mad.

»Well, it seems you're not that good at taming animals either.«

ooo

After deciding the bench in the jumper was too small to enjoy TV properly, Rodney and Sheppard had returned outside. While Sheppard stretched on his deck chair, Rodney disappeared off to the stone barbecue that had been built in an open corner of the beach, not far from the jumper.

With every moment that John was left to his thoughts the impression that McKay had come to the beach just because of him intensified.

The physicist was puttering around the grill, oblivious to everything around him. It took the genius that was McKay to have an absentminded professor moment over cooking, of all things. In everything science, he was totally conscious of everything around him. Sometimes Sheppard could swear he paid as much attention to his surroundings as a trained soldier would.

Feeling the urge to stretch his legs, John got up, stretched all his muscles – and how good that felt – then walked over to where they'd parked the jumper. It wasn't the first time he'd done that when he had a moment to himself – just walk around the jumper, observing it. He knew its every inch, familiar with it almost as closely as Doctor Zelenka did but looking at it didn't get old. He did the same thing with his choppers as well. It was a good thing he was never caught doing that, because his sanity would be even more in doubt than it often was already.

He scratched a bit of dust from the crack where the drive pod was safely tucked in. He inspected the crack a little further. He thought it might be getting a little rusty – it was folded in as perfectly as he was used to. He'd need to talk to Zelenka about reoiling it. Maybe finding a better oil.

He rounded a corner to the front. He flicked a small brown spider from the windshield. »Oh no, you won't. A web will only gather dust here, go somewhere else,« he murmured to the animal.

He rubbed off another dust stain from the edge then ran a hand over the hull. Jumpers were truly magnificent ships no matter how awkward they looked to everyone else. It pained him somewhat that the only other person who also thought that was Zelenka. Even McKay didn't understand it.

Speaking of the devil... as he got to the side that faced the barbecue he noticed McKay looking at him. He quickly removed his hand from the hull. McKay didn't give any indication whether he saw the pilot fondling his ship or what he thought of it. John smiled and walked away as quickly as dignity would let him.

Maybe it was just his lot in life. When asked, ordinary people would also say airplanes were beautiful and elegant and helicopters were only somewhat round boxes with big rotating sticks on top. They had no idea. Sheppard walked back the way he came.

Speaking of helicopters: »Hey! We should get some choppers for Atlantis!« he called to McKay.

»What are you talking about?« the physicist called back.

»Helicopters!«

»Yes, I got that! Why would we need them?«

»For flying!«

»Yes, obviously. What sort of flying? For entertainment? Like yachting? Have you been talking to Slater?«

Sheppard cringed. He realized what his suggestion sounded like. The expedition had a few avid sailors that had grouped into a club of sorts and been lobbying for a fleet of sailboats ever since the conatct with the Milky Way was reestablished. In the end Elizabeth finally gave in and the first three boats were on their way on the Deadalus.

»No, not just for fun! We could use them to get here, to the Mainland or around Atlantis! We only have so many jumpers, it would be stupid to lose them when we could use something else!« Speedboats had already been suggested by others and the idea discarded by pretty much everyone in charge.

»Oh. That makes sense. That's a good idea!«

»We should talk to Elizabeth!«

»But you're the only chopper pilot we have!«

»So, we get another one to take care of things when we're on mission!«

»We'd – I mean our team – would still get to travel by jumpers, even here?«

»I don't know! Maybe!« If Sheppard were completely honest with himself, which wasn't really the case, he couldn't wait to fly a chopper again.

»Well, I'll just finish up here.«

Sheppard returned to the sitting area, worried that uncharacteristically, McKay would be hard to convince to join him in his cause. He might have to rely only on his charm and Elizabeth was partially, more than just partially, immune to his powers. It wasn't going to be easy, but John had a new energy that would allow him to tackle Elizabeth. The future was looking bright.

ooo

The next twenty minutes passed in peace. Lorne resignedly followed a determined Scottish doctor. The animals had given them a little reprieve, only providing background noise to their journey. He audibly sniffed the air.

»Smells like rain.«

»The forecast didn't say...« but as Carson looked up, he did see a collection of dark clouds above them. Those were accompainied by a stronger wind that upset the leaves in the trees around them and created swirls of dust and grass on the ground. Carson swatted at an insect whose upset swarm buzzed below a tree canopy.

A big fat drop of rain fell onto Lorne's arm.

»Looks like it too.«

»Aye. You may be right. Perhaps we should find some shelter.«

»I don't think it'll be a long shower.« Carson pointed towards what they could see of the horizon. The storm clouds seemed to be only above them, all around them almost clear skies. »Looks odd, though.« Even as he said it, he figuratively bit his tongue – it was the perfect metaphor of his day; a lovely sunny morning for everyone but himself and only stormy weather for him.

»In the military, we don't ask ourselves about the artistic value of weather. Shelter.«

That was easier said than done. They were in a moderately-sized clearing with no obvious place to hide, even to Lorne's trained eye. Besides, trees and storms didn't mix. Not that any of that mattered. The storms on Atlantis' planet were apparently all for the drama. They were either very intense with rain pouring down in literal waterfalls and tens of minutes of non-stop lightning or with strong winds and spectacular electrical phenomena or simply superstorms. In accordance with that rule, the rain didn't start as a drizzle, but as a sudden bona fide downpour. It even announced itself with a loud clap of thunder, in the grand tradition of dramatic effects. In two seconds, the two men were soaked again.

»Now I understand the ancient peoples thinking the gods were pouring out whole buckets of water at them,« Carson yelled over the thunder. They hadn't even made it to the edge of the wood.

»You can stop to think about superstition later,« Lorne called back, »Run!«

»We'd better stay here. We're better off away from the trees. It's never good with all this lightning.«

Lorne opened his mouth, undobutebdly to say something about a shelter when another lightning stroke. The thunder that followed it a fraction of a second later synchronized its sound with Lorne's mouth to make it look like it was his line, not its, and proved Carson's point.

»Whoa,« yelled Lorne, not that Carson heard him. »That was close. See why I said shelter's important.«

Carson just looked startled. »We should be fine in a little while.«

Lorne pointed a finger in a direction, a spot somewhere beyond the clearing. » I think I saw something grey there. There may be a rocky outcropping or something.«

Carson scratched his forearm where the hedgemouse or whatever stung him. »We should probably stay here. We're soaked as it is.«

»Come on, let's go there,« yelled Lorne, but Carson didn't respond. He was staring at the sky.

»Major, the storm might be passing.« Now it was Carson's turn to point fingers. As another two lightnings struck somewhat further away, Lorne understood what the doctor was trying to say although he didn't yet hear him well enough to make out the words. They could see where the storm clouds ended.

»Let's stay here.«

This time Lorne actually managed to hear what was said. »Five minutes. Then we go. And then you better find a clothesdryer. I've never been so wet in my life.«

ooo

The preparation of lunch had fortunately passed without an incident, save for the unfortunate absence of green pepper. Radek was knowledgeable about a lot of things, but apparently spices weren't one of them.

Rodney happily munched on the leftovers he had hidden by the side of the grill. Not that Sheppard ate all of his meal. He was still short on appetite (Rodney refused to consider the possibility that his cookery left something to be desired). Rodney understood that. As sad as it was he probably wouldn't be able to hide his »leftovers« if Sheppard's appetite had been on par. No harm was done, though. The less they ate now the more was left for later.

Sheppard was asleep again.

Not long after, the comparative silence of the secluded beach was interrupted by a rustling sound from the woods beyond. Like several other beaches on that part of the coast, Córdoba was flanked by a forest of thin tall trees with rather small round canopies and the underbrush composed almost entirely of one sort of bush, fairly tall and thick. No small animal would be seen until it was right on the beach. As for being heard...

Rodney almost jumped at the sound. Only luck had it that the sauce that dripped from the meat that he swung around didn't land on Sheppard.

There was a fifty-fifty chance that whatever was coming was dangerous. Rodney had no idea if he had enough time to go to the jumper to get the gun. Due to his terrible aversion to being eaten the nearest thing he could get was the umbrella. Fortunately, it was folded. He held it like a club and turned towards the sound. Sheppard stirred a little, but he didn't wake.

The rustling got louder and louder until Rodney saw what was coming – it was taller than the bushes. A dark outline of a human with impressively large hair.

»McKay!« Ronon called.

The scientist relaxed and placed the umbrella back in the stand. »Ronon.«

»I'm not too late?«

»For lunch? Yes, but I'll make you another batch. Just wait a little. And don't do that again!«

»Don't do what?«

»Creep around like a tiger. You should've told me you were coming.«

»Your radio's off.«

Rodney touched his ear only to find his headset was missing. »Oh.«

Ronon was already setting his deck chair on the other side of Sheppard's. »He been asleep all the time?« he asked indicating the pilot.

»I'm awake,« John mumbled. He opened one eye and glared at Ronon. The guy knew just when being tactless would be the most irritating. Ronon just grinned.

Sometimes John hated his teammates.

Rodney had already scurried off to the barbecue, so he was left with only Ronon for company. »Where's Teyla?« he asked.

»She had to do something in the settlement. She'll come soon.«

»Why'd you come so late?«

»Didn't know until the Doc told me.«

»McKay didn't tell you?« Sheppard was purposely speaking a little louder so McKay could hear.

The effect was obvious immediately. »It was on the fly! Radek was handy,« came the semi-yelled answer from behind the barbecue.

»I was sleeping,« elaborated Ronon. Sheppard nodded in understanding. Although one could say that Rodney and Ronon were friends, Rodney was terrified of waking Ronon when he was fast asleep. Both men purposefully ignored the fact that Rodney had had somebad experiences with such situations.

Ronon latched his eyes on the half-empty plate sitting next to Sheppard. »You gonna eat that?«

»No... I don't know, maybe.« John honestly didn't know. If he were still in the infirmary he'd definitely say no. But now, he started feeling somewhat hungry again. He eyed the plate suspiciously.

Ronon, not deterred by that answer, or manners, snatched a grilled cucumber-like vegetable from Sheppard's plate. He shook off a few of green ant-like insects that suddenly found themselves vying for the food with Ronon. »McKay's making more anyway.«

John pulled the plate back to himself. He had decided – he was definitely still hungry. He started eating again before Ronon could steal more of his food..

The Satedan left the table without appearing insulted. He walked over to the treeline and started rummaging in the underbrush which attracted the attention of both his teammates.

»What are you doing?« called Rodney.

Ronon didn't answer except for a grunt that meant 'aha!' in his vocabulary. He plucked a few twigs from a plant and walked straight over to McKay.

»Try this.«

McKay pushed Ronon's hand away.

»Get that away from the food. I won't be poisoned just because you suddenly thought that playing with wild plants is fun. Or did Carson teach you some voodoo ritual for killing the appetite?«

»It's spice.«

»What? That? That's not a spice! It's a wild plant. Probably poisonous. Very, very likely poisonous.«

»It's good. Found on many worlds.«

»Yes, and all those backwards societies will know good eating. They mostly can't feed themseves gruel.«

As McKay spoke, Ronon rolled a succulent leaf between his fingers, then broke it in half. He thrust it under his nose.

»...spices are fine art and you can't expect just every half-monkey to...« Rodney invadertently sniffed the leaf at first, then repeated the action quite deliberately. He uttered an ecstatic moan. »This is...«

Ronon grinned. Sheppard had been looking at them all the time from above a sauce-dripping meat on his fork. At McKay's reaction, his eyes widened.

»This is... I can't even describe this. How do you use it? Where did _you_ learn about it, anyway?«

»Roll the leaves and scatter them over the food.«

McKay did so instantly.

»It's good on meat, right?« he added as an afterthought, as though he only then remembered it was possible that it would clash with meat.

Ronon opened his mouth to answer, but Rodney was faster. »Oh forget it. You'll eat anything anyway.«

Ronon, amused rather than insulted, made room for Sheppard, who had joined them, to get closer to the grilling steaks. The man sniffed at the air experimentally and emitted a pleased sound. »Smells good.«

»Will you please go away,« McKay complained. »Genius at work.« He gently pushed him away.

»Save some for me too.« Sheppard went back to the table, expecting Ronon to follow, but he didn't.

»What now?«

Ronon was still leaning over his shoulder, murmuring inarticulate sounds. »Smells good,« he commented.

»Yes, yes, it does. Now go.« He waved his hand in a 'shoo' gesture. Ronon ignored it.

»Turn them around now,« he said suddenly.

»I was going to.« A slight pause. »Why?«

»It'll cook best.«

»Oh. I knew that. Okay, so you know some cooking. Where did you learn?«

Satisfied that the food was progressing nicely, Ronon ignored McKay and walked back to the deck chairs. »I like this,« he said to Sheppard.

ooo

Carson intently wrung his tee, probably more than it was necessary. It wouldn't dry within the next minute no matter what he did. »I think we should go back,« he said as he once more carefully dabbed at a large scrape on his shoulder, taped a piece of gauze over it and replaced the tee-shirt with as overexagerrated a wince as he could produce.

»It hurts, eh?« asked Lorne. He was sitting on the ground next to Carson. His own soaked clothes were receiving similar attention.

»How can you wear wet clothes?« Lorne had never heard the doctor sound so disgusted.

»I don't like it either, Doc, but it's not dangerous.«

»Aye, you soldiers don't feel normal unless you have a problem such as this.« Carson swung his jacket around to put it on, almost hitting Lorne's side with it. He quickly changed his mind and tied it around his waist too.

»If it bothers you so, take it off.« Lorne received a glare that promised all the uncomfortable things medicine had ever invented. »I meant your T-shirt.«

»I'm serious, Major. Let's go back.«

»What? You kept saying that we have to go and that we have to be quick or the Colonel will die. And now you want to go back?«

»Aye. We're not likely to make it any faster, the way we are now. Maybe we could get backup or something. Or we fly the jumper to here and continue ourselves. At least we'll have a change of dry clothes.«

»No. I'm not going back now. We must be almost two klicks away from the jumper. I say we find the Colonel and McKay.«

»Do you really think we could be of any help to them like this?«

»We're probably closer to the shore than we're to the jumper. We should be able to contact someone from there.«

»I won't be able to convince you, will I?«

Carson sighed, stood up, shook his shoulders, carefully replaced his bag, looked at the woods and said: »That way, then.«

ooo

The three men on the beach were sitting in their deck chairs and laughing.

»... and she had these...« Sheppard had his arms spread wide. Neither he, nor his two teammates, noticed Teyla sitting down in a foldable chair she set down not far from the Colonel. Sheppard continued: »...these big...« he wobbled his hands once more.

»Big what?« asked Teyla.

»Teyla!« Sheppard and McKay called at once. If Ronon was truly surprised, he gave no indication. »You are talking about fishing, am I right?« she asked with a sweet smile. She knew very well what they were talking about, but she had successfully shut them up.

»Er, Teyla,« started McKay more timidly than she'd expect of him. »Have some lunch.« He offered her a plate with a few bits of vegetables and a partially eaten steak.

»There's more on the firespot,« offered Ronon.

»Thank you,« said Teyla and went to get the food.

»I never saw her arrive,« said McKay.

»Me neither,« said Sheppard.

Ronon didn't say anything, but earned two accusing stares from his teammates.

»I bet he knew she was there,« complained McKay. Ronon smiled a cryptic smile in reposnse.

»He does that all the time,« complained Sheppard.

»Are you not happy to see me?« called Teyla from the barbecue.

»Damn. Your hearing's like a dog's,« complained Sheppard.

»Be careful, you don't want to insult her. You know what she's like.« Teyla then rounded the table dangerously closely to McKay and the scientist cowered in his deck chair.

»I appreciate that you commended my good hearing, Colonel,« she said to Sheppard and sat down.

»You're amusing, McKay,« Ronon said.

»Yes, well, thank you. I aim to please.«

ooo

Fates appeared to have temporarily spared the two travelles on their way through the deep woods of the mainland. For Lorne, it was a walk in a park. Perfectly acceptable, except for the wet clothes – which was worse than all the scrapes that itched and the pinpricks on his hand that wouldn't stop hurting, but he wouldn't voice it and let Beckett have the satisfaction. The forest wasn't very thick; only a few roots presented traps on the ground, the underbrush was very low and the only animals that cared to interact with them were the dragonfly things that buzzed around blooming trees, and the singing and screeching birds.

»Dèja vu,« he said.

»What?«

»This looks familiar.«

»Of course it looks familiar. Everywhere we've been to so far looks the same. Are you alright, Major? Any headache, dizziness, blurr...«

»No, I'm fine. I know where we are. It's just this part that seems familiar.«

»You've had visions?« Carson still wasn't following.

»No. I mean I think we were here, on this precise spot, before.«

»Ach.« Carson made an 'oh' expression. »What makes you think that?«

»I don't know. It just feels like that.« Lorne had gotten used to registering his surroundings subconsciously, letting his consciousness process only the relevant things. A few missions with Ronon apparently paid off more than he was willing to admit.

»We can't be going in circles. We left the clearing in the direction you pointed at,« protested Carson.

»Oh, so it's my fault now.«

»I'm not saying that. But I still think we aren't going in circles.«

»Well, it's just a feeling« Lorne walked on while Carson went in another direction and abruptly stopped at the base of a tree.

»Major. I suspect you might be right.«

»So, you agree with me.« He paused. That was strange. »Why?«

»We must've become disoriented in the storm. Look here.« Carson pointed at the base of a tree.

»Yes, I know _this_ tree,« Lorne said sarcastically.

Nonetheless, he offered the doctor enough courtesy – he'd never willingly admit to curiosity – to come see what convinced him they'd been walking in circles.

»Oh no.«

The foot of the tree had interwoven roots that made a sort of an upside-down basket. Inside it wobbled a small patch of neon blue and green-brown. It was distinctly lizard-shaped and its movement suggested it had had a wee bit too much to drink. Lorne had been hoping he wouldn't see the little monster anymore.

It was definitely their multi-legged chameleon. It hadn't moved from where they'd left it. Which, of course, meant they were definitely walking in circles. Exhausted by the idea alone, Carson plopped down on a root that was big enough to pass for a bench.

»Be careful; stay away from the chameleon.«

»What are we going to do now?«

»At moments like this, I wish we'd had GPS installed on this planet.«

»We have the jumper.«

»I'm not going back just for the HUD,« Lorne grumbled. »Let's just go somewhere before that thing,« he nudged his head toward the lizard's hole, »decides to latch onto me again.«

»Alright. Where do we go?«

»I think we were walking away from the sun. Let's continue in that direction.«

»Alright.«

Lorne held out a hand to Carson to help him up. The doctor shot him a suspicious look, but made no move to take it.

»What?«

Without a word, Carson lightly tugged at the bandage that covered the offered hand, then stretched to take the other one.

»Just as well. We might happen upon them if luck should have it.« Not all that likely.

They left with Lorne still rolling his eyes and silently asking himself whether the Scot could ever stay quiet. The chameleon poked its head from its shelter and rolled onto its back, undoubtedly to get a little tan. The neon blue changed into a darker, royal blue.

ooo

»It's a square, isn't it?«

They were playing a Satedan game that Ronon offered to teach them. It looked simple at first glance, but it turned out to rival chess.

»Oh, ha ha. Now you want to gloat, Mr. Human Calculator. Just because you can automatically calculate doesn't mean you're better than me. Besides, you can't gather.« He looked over at Sheppard's not-very-large pile of stones. »And you're lousy with trading,« McKay moved his hand over the things scattered across the table, then indicated different patterns, wiggling his fingers.

»I'd expect good math skills from you of all people, McKay,« Sheppard countered.

That took wind out of Rodney's sails. »Not as much as you. At least I'm a better gatherer than you,« he tried to recover what little dignity he had left.

»Great. That means you'd make a great garbage collector.«

That was something Rodney couldn't top.

»Teyla's better than either of you,« Ronon added from behind his pile, which was bigger than either of his two teammates', but smaller than Teyla's. She smiled a kind and sacchariny smile. Sheppard and McKay both narrowed their eyes at her.

»You taught her this game before you showed us.«

»I didn't.«

»It's the only explanation.«

»She just paid more attention to my instructions.«

»We did too,« McKay countered.

»What he said,« Sheppard agreed.

Ronon shrugged.

»Okay. I'll prove it. The stones are squares and the leaves are evens?«

»No. The stones are evens and the leaves are squares,« McKay disagreed.

»He's right,« Ronon confirmed.

»Oh, I knew that,« Sheppard cringed in embarassment. »I calculated them right, just forgot right now.«

»...and the sticks are factorials.«

»Yeah, but there are only five of them.«

»They do count. Remember that Teyla beat you in the first game because of that.«

»You never even touched any of them, McKay. No wonder you finished before the game ended.«

»I did use them.«

»Yes, you did, but only the factorial three. It's worth almost nothing.«

»Oh yeah? It did add to zero in round two. I beat you there!«

Sheppard was about to argue when a glance at his other teammates revealed them amused to no end. »What are you looking at?«

»You're funny.«

»What Ronon is trying to say is that we like seeing you jovial.«

»No, you're not. You're really just having fun on our account. And it's all your fault.« The last remark was aimed at Sheppard.

»How can it be my fault?«

»Like you don't know.« He pushed his pile towards the center of the table. »If you don't mind, I'll sit out the next game. I need to stretch my legs.« Even as he said it, Rodney stood up and walked away from the table.

»You're just sulking because you're not good at a game that's played with stuff you pick off the forest floor,« Sheppard called as he moved a leaf and playfully threw a twig on one of Teyla's stones with it.

»Always thinking I'm bad at games. Whenever we play chess, it's »McKay's bad at it«. Always the same. Just so you know, I don't suck at this game. It's tactics.«

McKay was lousy at bluffing too, just like Elizabeth once suggested. As soon as he made his move, he lost.

»Okay, okay...« He left the table. »You play your beloved game while I go stretch my legs, Colonel.«

»Aha! You're doing exercise! And nobody forced you.« Sheppard returned. McKay was too far away from them to hear his muttered reply, but John could imagine what was being said.

»I'll go too,« said Ronon, who had also lost, and walked off after McKay.

»So, it seems it's just you and me.« Sheppard wiggled his eybrows at Teyla.

»Shall we start another game?« she asked with a sweet voice.

»What? Already? Why?«

With a flourish Teyla rearranged some of the things on the table, rolled a leaf over one of the twigs, gathered all the pebbles in a pile next to her extant one and victoriously smiled at Sheppard. »I won.«

»What?« Now Sheppard was slowly getting annoyed. »Alright. Let's start again. Just the two of us. You against me.«

Teyla liberally scattered the stones and the twigs over the table.

Somewhat less vehemently, Sheppard added: »Fouth time's the charm.«

ooo

Ronon followed McKay not four meters away. The scientist didn't hear anything. He walked along the shore, looking out to the ocean.

»Perfect,« Ronon said as he picked up a seashell that lay on a rock. McKay literally jumped in surprise, although it was only a couple of inches.

»Why didn't you let me know you were here?«

»You didn't ask.«

»What's perfect?«

»This one,« Ronon showed him what he held in his hand. »They're used for the Hunter's Game. I'll teach you that later.«

»Are all your Satedan games played with stuff you find on the ground?«

»No. Some are played with small figurines, some with painted balls and some with illustrated plaques. There's also one with pieces made of cloth. That one I can show you. I can make those.«

»What about the others?«

»I can't paint.«

»Yes, I can imagine that.«

»I can't even show you because you're not good at it either.«

»Well...« McKay didn't even try to hide he was miffed. »Maybe we could ask Lorne or Schmidt. They paint.«

»Maybe. They're very intricate designs.«

McKay then sat down on a rock, pulling a candy bar out of his pocket. He was about to tear it open when a large hand came up and snatched it from his hands. Ronon quickly put it in his pocket.

»Hey! I was about to eat that.«

»You're going to get fatter,« said Ronon matter-of-factly as he sat down on the other side of McKay's rock.

»No, I'm not. I'm hypoglycemic, I'll die if I don't eat.«

»You ate twenty minutes ago.«

»About an hour ago.«

»Twenty two.«

»Well, I need to eat constantly.«

»I'll let you eat when you're really hungry.«

»And in the meantime, you'll eat my Snickers. Remember, you may be bigger than me and be all that powerful warrior guy, but you ate twenty two minutes ago too.«

»I'll give it back. But not now.«

»Fine. Have it your way. I'll just go back to the jumper to get another one.«

Despite that, McKay didn't move from where he was sitting. Ronon stretched out on the ground and closed his eyes, enjoying the breeze with a smile.

»I can see you're an idiot. Why are you doing that? You'll have back pain for the next month, if you stay laying like that.« Córdoba was almost completely covered with pebbles. It truly didn't look like the sort of surface one would enjoy laying on.

»I've slept on worse.«

»You'll see later, when I tell you »I told you so.««

»You won't.«

»I so will.«

»Come try it out yourself.«

»Oh yeah? I see now. You'd sacrifice me and my health just to prove your point. We're on the same team, or have you forgotten that already? Can you even start to imagine what stones like that could do to me? Of course you cavemen think that your brute constitution and imperviousness for just about anything means we're all like that, but civilized...« Rodney glanced over when he realized he'd been talking to the wind. Ronon probably hadn't heard most of what he'd said; the Satedan was asleep right where he lay. He didn't even look uncomfortable, nor bothered by the shrieking of some large sea birds (they might have been fruit bats). Rodney sighed in disappointment. Nobody ever listened to him, but when things he warned about happened, everybody complained. That's all he heard; complain, complain, complain.

He rubbed his hip where the rock kept poking him uncomfortably. Nature was dangerous and he seemed to be the only one to realize it.

He picked up another pebble and threw it into the sea. It made ten skips before sinking at a spot where a patch of algae floated. McKay smiled to himself. He still had it.

ooo

The relative calm gave Carson time to think about everything that had happened; the injustice of it all. He only meant good. He gave up his day to search for his wayward patient. In return, he was achy, he was itching, he was wet and he was constantly annoyed by his companion. The major checked the compass on his watch every couple of minutes and spent the time in between scanning their path and the sky above them. It ate up all of Carson's nerves.

He suddenly stopped.

»What is it?« Lorne sighed.

»Do you see that?«

»What?«

Carson pointed his finger at what was undoubtedly a molehill. »That?«

»Yeah, so?«

»It moved.«

»Come on, molehills don't mo...« It didn't let him finish the sentence as its top wiggled again, dislodging a bit of dirt. Several little clumps rolled down to the ground in an ominous gesture that signalled 'it's coming' to everyone familiar with scary movie omens.

Lorne pointed his P-90 at the mound in an instinctual move. As if the mound sensed it was being told 'freeze', it stopped moving.

»What sort of an animal do you think is inside?«

»A mole, of course.«

»We're on an alien planet, it doesn't have to be a mole.«

»What then?«

The mound shuddered again.

»I don't know. Things like these are usually dangerous. A snake. Python or something like that.«

»Snakes don't make molehills.«

»Aye, Major, but as I already said, we're on an alien planet. Maybe they do here.«

»Do you think?«

»Of course. Look at what we've found so far? Large beings that will suck the life out of you with their bare hands! Who says this mound can't contain an iratus bug or some such beastie?«

»I really wouldn't want to meet any insects that strip your skin off.«

»See.«

The molehill shuddered again and Beckett yelped.

»Oh, come on,« said Lorne, but in a way that didn't hide his fear.

»Better safe than sorry.« Carson took the soldier by the arm and pulled him away.

It was Carson's bad day, that was for sure. He hadn't run more than twenty yards when he had to stop again.

»What now?« Evan Lorne was beginning to sound dangerous.

»There's something there,« Carson whispered.

»Where?«

»There!«

Lorne turned towards the indistinct _somewhere_ up ahead. There was nothing but the woods and little hints in the wind that they were close to the shore. There was nothing sinister there. »No, seriously, what did you see?« He didn't bother to whisper.

»Sssssh! I thought I heard something.«

»Yes, I hear the wind too.«

»Do you hear something akin to crackling, too?«

When Lorne bothered to try again he did hear something – crackling, like dry leaves or a fire or cellophane. Also tinkles and other various percussion sounds...That _was_ a reason to whisper.

»Yeah. What do you think it is?«

»I'm not sure, but I'll bet it's nothing good.«

»Doesn't sound like it, Doc. Do we walk around it?«

»The molehills are there. We can't go back.«

Lorne had to admit he was right. Their injuries were far from bad, but coupled with their damp clothes made both men less agile than usual. He wouldn't even stake his trash that they could outrun potential danger anymore. He wasn't willing to risk it. He silently pointed to the left. Beckett nodded and followed him.

With each passing second the sound seemed to get louder. Lorne knew that wasn't so, but the adrenalin had the strange property of amplifying all sorts of things – creepy sounds in particular.

They didn't go far, but Lorne figured they had gone far enough to come out behind the dangerous thing's back, unless it was McKay's whale's evil stepbrother. He grabbed Beckett's shoulder (the doctor had somehow creeped to point) to direct him toward the shore.

»Let Mum know I died a heroic death,« Carson told him in the quietest whisper he'd ever managed.

»Same.«

This was it. If they didn't manage to attack the evil thing, it would attack them. Carson took a deep breath and crept after Lorne.

ooo

Sheppard's team had, meanwhile, gathered back at the table. Rodney had declared he'd had enough of Ronon's farmer's games, so the two men tried Earth games and ended up making up their own dice game. Teyla had stretched out on her deck chair to sunbathe. Next to her, Ronon hadn't intended to sunbathe, but with McKay hogging most of the shade their umbrella offered, he was catching some sun too.

»Do you think he'll be alright?« Ronon suddenly asked.

»Please?« Teyla was confused.

Ronon nodded his head in Sheppard's direction.

»Oh, I see your point,« Rodney said when he switched dice yet again. Ronon covered the rest of them with his hand lest McKay change his mind again. »It might be a good idea to keep an eye on him.«

Their commander was over by the grill, with his back to his teammates. »I hope he's not trying to cook anything.«

Teyla lazily rolled over to face her teammates. »He can't be that bad.«

»He can, believe me,« McKay said. »Do I bet now?« After both Rodney and John declared they didn't want to play anything that required thought anymore, they'd agreed on simple gambling.

Teyla threw an anxious glance at Sheppard. He didn't seem to have much trouble doing whatever he was doing.

»Yeah, you haven't seen him making an omelet,« Ronon said to her. »I didn't think anyone could burn food so easily.«

»Or undercook it. The only thing that Sheppard can cook is an MRE.«

»Okay, McKay, what are you betting now?« .

»Er... we're out of gym slots, are we?«

»Yes,« Teyla confirmed.

For a minute only Sheppard's noises and a parrot screeching in the woods were heard. It would probably have continued if their radios hadn't interrupted it.

»John, Rodney?«

»Elizabeth!« whispered McKay. »Should we answer?«

Apparently, Sheppard also had his radio fitted; he came to stand by the others, wielding a dangerous-looking grilling utensil. »I don't know. Maybe we better not.«

»She'll tell Carson,« McKay shushed.

He leaned over the table to see how the game was going. Teyla really outdid herself with making the dice out of the few cube-like stones they'd found on and around the beach.

One of the dice had a weird round inclusion of a different, lighter stone. He poked the die and tipped it over to see better. What he saw made him jump back. The thing that attached itself to the stone was a small shell. To his shock, it was alive: it was partially open and from the crack three tiny round black eyes were staring at him. It was like a reincarnation of his elementary school English teacher.

»Whoa!«

The others looked at him, but were rude enough not to react. Indignation welled up in Sheppard and he opened his mouth to say something unpleasant.

Without even being there, Elizabeth managed to dissolve the tension that could turn into an argument. »John, Rodney, I know your radios are on now.«

Ronon wasn't in the mood for a whispered conversation and answered his radio. »We're here.«

»Ronon. Are John and Rodney alright?«

»McKay keeps cursing Zelenka because he didn't pack green pepper. Otherwise we're fine.«

»Oh, you had to tell her that? She'll think...«

McKay's complaint was interrupted by Elizabeth laughing loud enough for them to hear. He pouted.

»It's okay,« Elizabeth said to appease Rodney. »Just checking on you because you didn't have your radios on before.«

»Yeah, we forgot,« Sheppard said sheepishly. Although the jumper radio was turned off deliberately. He wasn't going to tell her that, of course.

»So, Rodney, are you not going to bet?« Teyla diverted the discussion.

»I will, just wait a minute. I'm thinking.«

»I'm quitting this game if it lasts much longer.« Ronon shifted on his chair.

»Okay. Okay. I can teach you some physics...«

»No.«

»Mathematics?«

»No.«

»Computers?«

»I already know what I need to know.«

»History?«

»Beer.«

At Teyla's startled expression, Rodney nodded subtly in her direction. There were very few moments when they hated their Satedan teammate, but whenever he was drunk they were ready to leave him on the first deserted planet.

»No.«

»What then?«

McKay let his frusration and dejection be seen. But nothing else was possible. And he had a feeling he was going to win.

»Erm... I'll give you two feet of bubble wrap.«

Ronon shook his head. »Ten feet.«

»Come on, I don't have ten feet to spare. You know, I use it for other, _useful_ things.«

»Is that why you started packing everything in the wool from Avicana?« Teyla asked innocently.

Rodney didn't hide the fact that he had been caught. »Alright, alright. I'll give you four and a half feet.« He glared at Teyla. »And just so you know, that wool isolates better than bubble wrap and is better at withstanding blows.«

»Wonderful, spare twelve yards for me too,« Elizabeth piped up. Everyone flinched. Nobody realized she was still on the radio.

»You'll make a deal later, now play before my zucchini burn,« Sheppard complained. Rodney was still pouting, Ronon raised an eyebrow and Teyla looked over to the barbecue in apprehension.

»Okay, let's throw.«

Each of the players threw their dice.

Sheppard was leaning over McKay's shoulder and the clam still stared at him. »Oh, no, you won't,« he said and flicked the die over so the shell faced the ocean.

»You did that on purpose!« McKay complained. »I had a five!«

»It was staring at me!« Sheppard's voice raised in pitch as it always did when McKay or Teyla accused him of something he was sure to be innocent of. Besides, he wouldn't have won anyway.

»What?« Elizabeth asked in a tone that clearly said she thought she had found herself in a surrealist film. Either that, or Sheppard'd flipped his lid.

»A shell.«

»There is a living shell on one of the stones we use as dice,« Teyla explained.

»Yeah, we couldn't get it off, and now it keeps looking at the Colonel.«

»Why don't you use another stone?«

»It's too small to cook,« Ronon explained.

McKay glared at him in mock exasperation. »The _actual_ reason we're using this one is because there are so few cube-shaped stones and the clam doesn't interfere with us playing.«

»And you, Colonel, are,« Teyla told him kindly.

Sheppard took a step back, somewhat insulted. But then, dice were no poker.

Teyla stretched out in the sun again and replaced her sunglasses. »Elizabeth. I am sure you need some relaxation as well. Come here and spend the afternoon with us?«

»I'm sorry, I can't. I'll take a rain check.« Ronon and McKay exchanged knowing looks. She desperately wanted to come. »Weir out.«

The two men returned to the calm of their game, but it was not to be. As if Elizabeth gave it a cue, something scary started emitting its strange noises from the wood. McKay was behind the chair in a split second and Ronon had his blaster ready in even less time. Sheppard repositioned his utensil, ready to strike.

The men were prepared to stage a full-bllown attack at whatever threatened them from the conveniently placed vegetation. The strange noises abated, replaced with the rustling of the shrubbery that suggested something was coming though. After a second that lasted a year, the mysterious attackers suddenly appeared before Sheppard's team. Sheppard himself almost dropped the utensil and McKay straigthened in an attempt to recover his pride.

»Carson! Major!«

The creatures of the woods were their doctor and Major Lorne. The two did look a little like swamp monsters – completely drenched, a little muddy with some sand stuck in a few patches and lots of reddish scrapes.

At Carson's anxious glare, Ronon only now lowered his gun.

»What are you doing here?« Sheppard asked.

»We came looking for you,« Lorne answered.

»Why didn't you come by jumper?«

Lorne spoke directly to Sheppard: »Doc here insisted we get to you as soon as possible, that you might die if we don't.«

»I'm fine.«

»Yeah, that's only because we didn't let you play with the grill too much,« McKay hissed into his ear. His attempt at being quiet enough so that only Sheppard would hear was futile and Lorne smirked against his will. »Speaking of barbecue, are you trying to burn down the beach?«

All turned towards the barbecue where McKay was pointing. Whatever Sheppard had been grilling had indeed caught fire. Quickly, the man ran off to put it out.

»See, he's fine,« McKay said to Carson.

Carson, of course, was oblivious. »I didn't know where you were.«

»I left you the note.«

»But you didn't say where you were going.«

»Where else could we have gone? If it's the Mainland, it's either with the Athosians or any of the beaches. I reserved it in the database.«

»So that's how you got here first,« Lorne said to Ronon, who still hadn't left the deck chair.

»Yes.« Ronon even looked smug.

»Doc!« Lorne's cry was a mixture of disbelief and resentment and a simple whine.

»I was worried,« said Carson weakly, as if that was the thing that explained it all.

»In other words, you don't trust us.«

»It isn't that.« And yet, his eyes clearly said 'aye'.

Rodney disappeard into the jumper. He called to Carson and, from the doorway, he threw a fresh uniform. Beckett caught it successfully and with only a slight wince. Rodney repeated the same with Lorne.

»You'll have to tell us how you managed to get wet,« Sheppard added.

»I need a shower first,« Carson sighed dejectedly.

»Oh, busboy. We need some towels,« Sheppard called to Rodney.

»Oh ha ha. First I'm a macho surfing guy, then a garbage collector and now a busboy,« complained McKay over his shoulder from the jumper threshold. John smiled confidently, but the smile faded as soon as Teyla caught his gaze. Sheppard was sure she was the only one who thought he'd gone too far.

»Shower's there,« Ronon pointed Carson in the direction of the showerhead mounted on a pole that passed for the shower. Carson had never been to Córdoba before.

»Where?«

»There.«

»There? That's a shower?«

»It works.«

»What's wrong?« Teyla asked the doctor, having come nearer as she spotted tiny bits of fresh blood speckled across his uniform. She had taken the fresh clothes from him and was inspecting his arm.

»It's a stick with a showerhead.«

»What's wrong with that?« asked McKay, who came over having already handed the towel to Lorne.

»There's just the stick. No curtain or something.«

»Well, yeah. Why would you need a stall?«

Lorne did a double take at McKay. Had the man never used a shower before? Teyla was fortunately more attuned to the gist of the conversation and explained. »This shower is mostly used to freshen up after swimming. It is not meant for cleaning oneself.«

»Oh,« McKay uttered. »Well... you do your stuff. We'll turn around.«

»We could build a tent around it,« Sheppard suggested, gesturing at the jumper.

Carson uttered a sound that suggested he wasn't exactly human and walked off to the stick with a showerhead at one end.

»So, Major,« Sheppard turned to Lorne. »Would you play... some dice game with us? It's more gambling than a game, really.«

»Sir, I ache and itch all around, I have a back full of bruises, my hair hurts. ... That's just what I need. I'll join you as soon as I'm dry and your aspirin stash is empty.« He didn't forget to glare at Carson.

»Good.«

»And in the meantime,« Rodney glared at Sheppard. »You need to find someone to rebuild the barbecue.«

ooo

One day later, Carson sat at his desk, minding his own business, which some fates obviously considered a provocation. John Sheppard's sudden appearance behind his back startled him, shattering his concentration on a grueling one-man solitaire tournament. The itching scrapes on his arm vied for his attention as well. Both distractions won.

»Busy?«

»Colonel! What are you doing here? I told you to go straight to your quarters.« He had let him go earlier that day, much to Sheppard's delight.

»And I will. I just wanted to apologize. I'm sorry you had to go through all that, and be injured...«

»Ach, they're just superficial.« His long-suffering expression as he attempted to scratch his wrist suggested a desperate plea for sympathy rather than an it's-nothing.

»It was all McKay's idea...«

Carson gave him a knowing look. Of course it was McKay's idea, but McKay's ideas were often identical to those of the Colonel. If Rodney hadn't thought of it first, Sheppard would surely come up with an even more insane plan of his own.

»And I would have called you if I knew McKay left you that vague note.«

»Right.«

»...and that he turned our radios off.«

»Right.«

»... but I gotta tell you, I haven't felt this good in a long time. I swear, if McKay hadn't dragged me off to the beach, I'd still think twice about getting out of that bed.« Carson tried to interrupt him, unsuccessfully. »By the way, why didn't you ask anybody where we were? Radek knew, Ronon found out, even Elizabeth was informed early in the morning.«

»Er...« Carson shrugged and turned back to his solitaire.

Very eloquent, that. John knew he won, but that didn't really make him feel any better. The Scot had an uncanny way of making one sympathize with him. It was up to John to cheer up the doctor. He knew just what to do.

»Come on, Doc. You need a break. I'll take you to Valencia.«

Carson moved his arm towards the solitaire, signalling that he had a very important card game to play. Sheppard would have none of it. He took both Carson's shoulders and stood him up, directed him towards the door.

»Have I ever shown you how to surf?«

Carson stopped in the doorway. He looked horrified.

»Wonderful!« cried Sheppard and exited the infirmary.


End file.
